


We trigger hurricanes unwillingly

by Lestradesexwife



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alien Planet, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Beach Sex, Blow Jobs, Cock Warming, Humans Are Weird, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Size Difference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-06-23 03:41:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15597513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lestradesexwife/pseuds/Lestradesexwife
Summary: Steve and Bucky post Infinity War, maybe the whole thing I don't know I just wanted them together on a beach. I also wanted them happy, so they will be that. There is a fair bit of wistful memory in here as well. So they will have two weeks of well earned vacation, and there might be some science.This has been sitting around in my WIPS folder. I have several chapters of it written and I'm hoping that posting them on some sort of schedule will light a fire under my ass to write and post the rest of it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In which Tony, Sam, Peter Parker, Bucky, Steve and Nebula have some sort of mission to a tropical island planet. Which resolves the final problems that will need to be resolved and isn’t really important because I just wanted Bucky and Steve on a tropical island where no one would be able to bother them for a period of time.

Steve sat, hard enough that it should probably qualify as a collapse, but with enough purpose he could claim it had been intentional. He’s not hurt, nothing broken or torn, but he’s tired. And it is over.

Tony is closer, everyone else is spread out down the beach. Bucky squints against the afternoon light and starts to move towards Steve.

“You good, Cap?” Tony’s voice is pitched loud enough that Sam would be able to hear, in case Steve needed the medic.

“I’m good, yeah.” He isn’t, but none of them are. Good only means nothing has killed him today. Bucky approaches, and Steve can see the movement in his fingers, the desire to pull Steve up out of the sand. But instead he turns and plops down beside Steve, sitting close enough that their shoulders touch and joins him in staring out at the ocean. If it wasn’t for the little red moon just above the horizon they could have been on Earth, the ocean looked the same, light swells rolling in and out over warm golden sand. 

The rest of the team gathered up around the spot Steve had chosen to park his ass, everyone looking vaguely stunned but whole and healthy. All of them looking vaguely over dressed for a day at the beach. Steve’s helmet is too hot in the sun, and he peels it off. “Sam.” He hands the helmet to Sam, who takes it without thinking, looking instead at Steve’s skull probably looking for a head wound. Once the helmet is off he has to resist the urge to strip off the rest of his armour and run down the beach in his birthday suit into the ocean.

“Is there anything in the water that would kill me?” There are too many people standing between him and the waterline now, he wants to send them all away.

“Most of the large predators would be in deeper waters. I’m confident you would survive.” Nebula answers in her difficult to parse flat tones.

“But it is just water?” Bucky is curious now, all his science fiction books as a kid had made it seem more than likely that alien planets would be more actively trying to kill him than this one has been.

Nebula sighs and pulls something out of a pouch on her side. “Give me your hand.”

Steve does it without thinking, well at least without thinking too hard, if she wanted to kill him she’d just send him into an ocean of acid without warning. The device pricks his finger, barely a sting and then Nebula is walking down to the water’s edge to press the device into a wave. She’s back before any of them can think about going to the edge to join her.

“It contains too much salt for human hydration. Trace elements but nothing that would cause adverse reactions in your species.” 

“Wait, are we going swimming? Did we win? Is that it?” Parker sounds unbearably young. Steve wants to grind his teeth, but he can’t. He knows they needed the kid, couldn’t have done this without him. 

“Yeah kid, we won.” Bucky’s voice is full of fondness, the sort of tone he’d have used to talk to the Howlies, if the Howlies had made it to the end of the war in once piece. 

“Are there sea shells? Can I bring home sea shells for Aunt May?”

Steve starts unbuckling his armour. His new suit is mostly Tony’s nanotech but less fluid so it still has buckles and snaps. “Let’s go find out. But maybe get Tony to scan it before we take anything back to Earth, don’t want to take back anything dangerous.”

Bucky pushes up off the sand, already out of his boots and pulling at the zipper of his tac-jacket. “Last one in is a rotten egg!”

Steve isn’t surprised when Peter beats them all to the water. He is pleasantly surprised when both Tony and Sam join them. Leaving only Nebula standing on the sand watching them with something approaching bemusement on her face. 

The water is warm, and the salt concentration much higher than any of Earth’s oceans, Steve can feel the extra buoyancy lifting him even as he dives under the surface. He surfaces and rubs the water from his eyes, letting himself float with the current. Bucky surfaces nearby and Steve has a flash of concern. “Is your arm going to be okay?”

“Yeah, vibranium nano-tech.” Bucky waves off the concern and dives for Steve, grabbing his ankle and pulling him under.

Steve makes an undignified noise but manages to grab a lungful of air before allowing himself to be pulled under. They tussle and shove under the water for as long as they can hold their breath, and when the come up they are farther away from the others. 

“Glad your back Buck.”

“Same, punk.”

“I found something!” Peter crows from the shallows. Pushing his way out of the water towards Nebula.

“That’s a rock.” Nebula’s default seems to be _not-impressed_ but this is delivered with extra sarcasm.

“A _space_ rock!” Peter, in true form is determined not to allow any negative energy affect him. 

Bucky laughs and dives down, coming up clutching a large rounded rock. “C’mon Stevie, lets get some space rocks to take home.” He starts swimming back towards Nebula to deposit his find. 

Sam, Peter and Bucky make a game of it, trying to find the biggest rocks they can. Tony eventually sits down next to the growing pile and sets his suit to scanning mode, cataloging the rocks and sorting them into piles. Nebula just stares at them, in a way that makes Steve’s heart ache. She eventually sits down and at some point starts making suggestions to Tony about the composition of the piles.

Steve makes a couple of finds, but his heart isn’t in it. He spends most of the next couple hours floating on an alien ocean watching a strange moon crawl across the sky.

Peter’s voice carries over the water. “Is there anything to eat?” 

Steve sighs and starts swimming for shore. They should eat, call Thor and get a ride back to Earth… probably Wakanda, but maybe New York. Report back, but to whom?

“There should be rations in the jet.” Strange has sent them here on a quinjet, instantaneous intergalactic travel via magic, they really are living in one of Bucky’s old pulp novels. 

Nebula makes a disgusted noise. Her dietary needs are still a bit of a mystery to Steve but he’s pretty sure she just hates the taste of the ration packs. “I’m going hunting.”

Steve nods. “Alright, should we start a fire?”

Nebula just narrows her eyes in a manner that suggests she thinks he’s too stupid to have survived on his own for this long.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” But she’s already walking away from him, disappearing into the tree line.

The rest of the team splits up, bringing crates out of the jet to make some seating and digging a pit in the sand to make their campfire in. Steve can already feel Tony’s need to go home, but he’s obviously humouring Steve, and maybe just a bit afraid of Nebula. Sam is also rolling with Steve’s relaxed agenda. Peter is vibrating, clearly torn between the need to go home to his family and friends and the epic awesomeness of having a cookout on an alien beach. Steve thinks Bucky understands, especially when he comes out of the quinjet wearing civies and holding a bottle of whiskey.

“Stark, you been holding out on us?” Bucky’s tone is even, and it is a measure of how far he’d come that he can even talk to Tony directly. 

“No, that’s the last stand bottle, put it back.” Tony bends down and opens a small crate, once the catch is release the sides of the box fall flat on the sand and reveal a full mini bar, complete with crystal glasses and a couple of bottles of soda.  
“Tony, why?” Steve should be more surprised that space in the quinjet had been used to transport that much alcohol, but he really isn’t.

Tony reaches down and pulls out an engraved flask. “Tony, _why-not._ ” he tosses the flask to Steve. “Thor’s good stuff. You can share with Barnes, this is for Sam and I.”

Peter edges closer. “Can I?”

“No. I’m fully confident Aunt May would castrate me. And Peps and I are still hoping for a kid. So for you.” Tony presents the two litre bottle of grape soda to Peter as though it was a bottle of fine wine.

They get the fire going and are just about settled in when Nebula returns. She’s carrying two creatures that look like a cross between a rabbit and a peacock, no wings but long feathers in a rainbow of yellow and green. 

“Can we eat those?” Tony sounds more curious than hungry. 

“Only if you clean them.” She holds them out, clearly trying to hand them to Tony.

Bucky reaches across and grabs them from her fingers. “Just like plucking a chicken.” He hands one off to Steve and pulls a knife from his boot to get to work.

The feathers are soft, and except that they appear to be attached to something more like a mammal they work in much the same way as a chicken. Nebula seems to have gutted them before she returned, so there’s not even that much work to do to dress them. Steve sits cross legged in the sand next to Bucky and starts plucking. “Remember when Dum-Dum found those game hens?”

“You mean when he took a piss and scared a flock of them out of the bushes?” Bucky laughs. “First good meal we’d had in a week.”

“Feather’s weren’t as pretty though.”

“No they weren’t.”

Peter starts grabbing the nicest feathers out of the pile. “I know, scan them. But like aren’t we shedding microbes all over an alien planet? What if we are giving this planet smallpox?”

Steve grunts, because he hadn’t thought of that. “Can you get sick, kid?”

“I mean, maybe?”

“Why do you care?” Nebula has been watching them. “They are just feathers.”

Steve had learned about the smallpox epidemic that had wiped out untold numbers of First Nations peoples in the “New World” and he’d been grief stricken. Weighed down by the things he’d believed in the past, things he’d thought to be true that were merely the lies told by the victors.

“Sorta defeats the purpose of us being here, if some little bug we brought with us ends up destroying life on this planet.” Sam is less afraid of Nebula than Tony but there’s still a solid dose of respect for her in his tone. “Or if we bring back something that is harmful to Earth.”

“But then why bring back feathers and rocks? What is the point?”

“The point is not being strangled by Aunt May, Pepper and Shuri for _not_ bringing them back _something from the alien planet we visited._ ”

“I hate humans.” Nebula growls.

Bucky and Steve start being more careful with their plucking, because once it is articulated the list of people that would like feathers from an alien rabbit-bird grows exponentially. 

The meat doesn’t take that long to cook, and everyone tries a little, finding it surprisingly normal. The sun starts towards the horizon and Tony becomes more and more fidgety as the afternoon wanes.

“I think I’m going to stay here for a bit.” Steve hadn’t been 100% sure he was going to say it but once it leaves his mouth he knows he means it, and nothing the rest of the team can say is going to make a difference.

Tony sputters a bit but can’t actually come up with a compelling reason for Steve to go back to Earth right away. There’s still a lot of loose ends around the Accords, Secretary Ross still hates him and will make his life miserable given the chance. There’s work to be done rebuilding Wakanda, and Steve does feel a little guilty about that.

“I’m tired. There’s enough MRE’s in the jet to last me two weeks. Thor or Strange can call me in if there’s something serious. I’m not saying I won’t come home. Just not now.” He feels somehow that Peggy would be proud of him.

“Hey, it isn’t Ultimate Fighting but if it makes you happy I approve. We can handle Ross and the Accords.” He aims a significant look at Tony. Sam raises his glass. “A toast, to a well deserved vacation.”

Nebula drinks, some of Peter’s grape soda, and then crosses the edge of the fire pit to stand in front of Steve. “If you intend to stay here you will need this.” She thrusts the scanner she’d used earlier at him. “Simply press it against anything you wish to eat or drink and it will inform you of any biochemical conflicts. It also has basic translation software, should you decide to visit the fishing village. This planet is frequented by other species so you will not encounter hostile responses from the natives. You will also not give them smallpox, your microbes are harmless in this environment.”

“Touching. Shall we away?” Tony is clearly overdue for a check in with Pepper and is herding Peter away from the campfire.

Sam claps his hands and looks up at the sky. “Hey Thor,” he glances at Bucky, who hasn’t moved from Steve’s side “four to beam up.”

“Ah, man! I really wanted to say that!” Peter sounds disappointed, but Steve can’t figure out why. “I mean, the Bifrost is _so much_ cooler than transporter tech…”

“Yeah, kid we know, you’re in charge of pop culture references. Say, Nebula… any chance you have a spare scanner? You know, in case I wanna bring Pep on a space adventure vacation?”

“There are several copies of the Guide on my ship.”

“OMG, Mr. Stark it’s the _Guide!_ ”

Whatever else they are about to say gets cut off by the descent of the Rainbow Bridge, which is the loudest silence and the brightest light Steve has ever encountered. When it is gone Steve and Bucky are standing alone on an alien beach watching the last of the sunset.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys settle in and make plans for a vacation they definitely deserve.

They don’t even have to jury rig anything, there are enough supplies and gear in the quinjet to make camp for the entire group, they weren’t sure how long it was going to take to wrap up this mission so they’d been over-prepared for once and that means Steve and Bucky are in the lap of luxury. It would probably be safer for them to sleep inside the jet, but neither one of them wants to pass up the chance to sleep out under unfamiliar stars. 

They do setup the perimeter fencing, some fancy electronic shit Stark swears nothing can sneak around. Bucky still sets some old fashioned trip wires and a couple snares. “I’d believe it if they were Shuri’s.”

Steve doesn’t feel the need to comment on that, Bucky had spent a lot more time in Wakanda than Steve, but Steve was mightily impressed with the state of their technology. When they are done setting up they get comfortable around the fire, sitting together on one of the crates and pouring out shots of Thor’s Asgardian whiskey.

Bucky is absolutely beautiful in the firelight, Steve feels the weight of all the years that have brought them here but he’s unable to give a shit right now. 

Bucky notices him staring and leans over to press a kiss against Steve’s lips. “Awful lot of work just to get me alone, Rogers.”

“Worked didn’t it?” 

“So what’s the plan? Build a little hut, be hermits and fishermen?”

Steve leans in and kisses Bucky again. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He turns and climbs onto Bucky’s lap. “Rabbit-chickens for dinner every Sunday night. We could get Shuri to send us some goats.” He kisses like he means it, and rocks into Bucky’s lap when he wraps his arms around Steve’s hips. He wants desperately to be telling the truth, wants them to have nothing more to worry about but what to have for dinner and how much clothing they need to be wearing. “Loincloths.”

Bucky runs his hands up Steve’s back, pulling off the Shield t-shirt he’d put on after their swim. “Hey careful, that’s collectable now.”

Bucky growls, “Tempted to throw all your clothes in the fire. Keep you naked.”

“Such a charmer.” But the idea has merit, if not for the sand in uncomfortable places, and makes him melt a little more into Bucky’s arms. Something in his chest loosening, the part of him convinced that Bucky is faking somehow, or will be snatched away from him again is dissipating slowly, like a block of ice melting in the sun.

“You remember that summer. It was so hot we closed all the curtains and took off all our clothes as soon as we got home?”

“I remember being on my knees a lot, and somehow still being very sweaty.” That summer they’d discovered oral sex, as well as Steve’s oral fixation. By the end of the summer Steve’s gag reflex was non-existent and his knees were permanently raw from kneeling on the hardwood floors.

Steve slides out of Bucky’s lap, his knees pressing indentations into the sand. He licks his lips and shuffles back a bit to make room for Bucky to stand up. Bucky does and drops trow unceremoniously, he’d never been much of a tease, not about this… at least not with Steve. Maybe he’d been smoother with the ladies back in the day, but they’d never had much time for pleasantries. Steve licks his lips again and Bucky peels off the t-shirt he’d found amongst the civvies. 

One does have to take a moment, Steve decides, to appreciate James Buchanan Barnes naked under alien stars, lit by the warm orange glow of a campfire. He’s going to have to try and draw it from memory later. Right now he needs to lean forward and skate the tip of his tongue over the length of Bucky’s cock. 

He gets a rough inhale for his troubles, a shiver, and Bucky’s metal fingers curling around his jaw to pull him closer. Steve makes a small noise in the back of his throat as Bucky’s cock enters his mouth. Maybe they had had time for pleasantries after all, because Buck had always been gentle when he fucked Steve’s mouth. Always took his time and let Steve get used to the pressure and fullness in his throat, built up gradually until Steve was blissed out and slack jawed and Bucky was pumping his hips as hard as he liked, his fingers in Steve’s hair holding his head steady.

Their bodies remember, despite the years and everything that happened to them. Bucky’s skin tastes of the salt from the water this afternoon. Bucky watches, controlling the slide of his cock into Steve’s mouth. It has been years, no matter how you count it, too long and Steve _wants..._ for this to be over, for Bucky to come in his throat until he chokes, and for it to last all night until the sun comes up. 

His awareness gets reduced to points of contact, Bucky’s fingers in his hair, Steve’s hand on Bucky’s thigh, mouth, lips, teeth and tongue. God he wants to live like this again, like that summer when there was only them. Ragged breathing and quiet words of praise, even then they’d been aware of the neighbours, the world outside waiting to come crashing in on them. Maybe… maybe here. 

Steve moans around Bucky’s cock, giving in and palming himself through his trousers. There’s a part of him that thinks he shouldn’t be so close to coming just from having Bucky in his mouth but he’s not going to fight it, he feels fucking amazing.

Bucky pulls back, sliding his cock free until the head just rests on Steve’s lips. “Wanna see you touch yourself.” Something snaps back into place in Steve’s mind, the fear of this being snatched away, or some kind of delusion breaks like a fever. Steve could open his fly and stroke his cock while Bucky fucks into his mouth if he wanted to, he could ask for anything and Bucky would give it to him.

“Sweetheart, your mouth.” Steve laps his tongue over the head of Bucky’s cock and that’s all it takes to get him going again, shallow thrusts that rub the head of his cock against the roof of Steve’s mouth. Bucky’s thighs tremble and he throws back his head and lets out a noise Steve has never forgotten. 

Bucky rides out the waves of his orgasm, smooth slow strokes into Steve’s mouth as Steve sucks and licks him gently. Steve’s brain is mostly offline, his body responding to the praise and small touches Bucky gives him. When Bucky pulls his cock out of Steve’s mouth for the last time he swallows and licks the drool from the corners of his mouth. 

Bucky tugs Steve up, moving them over to where they’d set up their sleeping bags. They’d zipped both bags together to create something they could both sleep in. Bucky opens Steve’s fly and shucks him out of trousers and underwear before pulling him down onto the ‘bed.’ Bucky arranges them so Steve is between Bucky’s legs, with Bucky sitting up and Steve half reclining against him, Steve’s back to Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s hands roam over Steve’s chest, flicking gently at his nipples. “C’mon, sweetheart.” He growls it, nudging his nose against Steve’s left ear, a habit left over from when he was small. It is the memory of being small, cradled in Bucky’s arms, the couch cushions on the floor so they wouldn’t make any noise on the squeaky bed frame; he and Bucky are nearly the same size now but folded down and wrapped in Buck’s arms he can remember even if he can’t pretend. When he comes his heart is hammering _almost_ as hard as it had when he was small and he’d thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a heart attack in Buck’s arms.

Arranging themselves into the sleeping bag seems like more trouble than it is worth, even with the breeze off the ocean they are warm enough in each other’s arms. They fall asleep with the sound of the surf in their ears and a small moon casting sparkling light across the waves.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whoop. my bad didn't mean to vanish on ya'll. Chapter 4 is nearly finished and contains more porn

The weirdest thing about waking up on an alien planet is when the sun isn’t exactly where you think it should be. There’s no way to prove that it is in the wrong place, astrophysics works the same way the universe over, and technically whichever side of the planet the sun rises on should be east. It’s like driving on the wrong side of the road, everything points to it being the correct thing to do but it makes something tickle in the back of your mind. 

Steve rolls over and shifts slightly, trying to dig himself a better groove in the sand. The sun is up but hasn’t lifted itself above the treeline behind them yet so the beach is still cool. He knows once the sun rises the rest of the way he’ll have to move but for now he can enjoy the cool air and the warmth of Bucky beside him.

“Gotta do a perimeter check.” Bucky whispers it, apologetic into Steve’s left ear, pressing a light kiss against Steve’s jaw.

“Mmmhm, alright. I’ll get coffee on.” Steve doesn’t try to keep Bucky in bed, just returns the kiss and wraps his arm over his eyes to keep out the light for a few more minutes. Shuri had removed most of the compulsions that made up the Winter Soldier programming, but the line between Bucky’s survival instincts and those of the Soldier… is a blurry one. Steve drifts off for another minute, letting the sound of the ocean lull him back into a half sleep before his own internal clock decides it is time for him to start his day.

He finds his boxers and slips them on, mostly because the idea of tending the campfire to get coffee brewing in the buff seems like a good way to get his bits burned rather than any sense of modesty. There is a camp percolator and some ground coffee in the quinjet, Steve’s sort of surprised there isn’t an espresso maker built into one of the walls, but since the jet is SHIELD and not one of Stark’s he probably didn’t have time to upgrade it. Steve’s brain fights against the nostalgia of the enamel camp mugs, too close to what they’d had in the war for him to be entirely comfortable. He’s added some small sticks and bits of things that are close enough to palm fronds for his brain to register them as kindling to the embers left over from last night and is coaxing an actual flame into existence when the first golden sparks of in incoming wizard doorway send him scrambling for his trousers.

He’s just managed to pull them up and close the fly when the doorway opens to reveal Wong. Steve resists the urge to bow. “Um, hi. Is everything alright?” He doesn’t know Strange that well, and he’s only really met Wong once before.

Wong grunts an acknowledgement. “I’ve been… tasked to deliver a “care package” from Ms. Potts.” 

Steve flinches slightly, acknowledging the misuse of power required to transport anything across the distances involved. “Oh…”

“She is very persuasive. And a formidable woman, I would not seek to anger her.” Wong gestures and the doorway expands. Steve can see what is probably the parking garage in Stark Tower behind Wong. A medium sized storage crate levitates through the doorway and plunks itself down on the sand beside their bedroll.

“That’s quite the package.” The box is big enough they could use it as a shelter in a pinch, although the jet is probably more secure.

Wong nods. “Stark informed NASA of your intention to stay, they have asked you to collect more samples. There are test kits… science.” Wong waves his hands, and Steve tries not to grin, Wong has the power to transport himself and all this science gear across the universe with the movement of his hands and pure intention, it would take NASA centuries to get to the nearest extrasolar planet… It’s the least he can do to bring back some samples. 

“Ms. Potts sends her regards, and some ‘essentials for a beach getaway.’ There are also provisions, Stark was insistent. Thor is working with T’Challa to settle the Asgardians, so I have also been tasked with retrieving you when you wish to return. This charm is activated like so,” He mimics a twisting motion over a small brass sphere. “It will glow and a matching one here will alert me you wish to return. If you require assistance or additional provisions it also functions as a communication device, the charm is permanent.”

“Thank you, I know this isn’t the best use of your time.” Steve is embarrassed, he hadn’t thought they’d assign a wizard as a delivery man for his sake.

Wong inclines his head slightly. “Your rest is well deserved, Captain. I’ve been assigned to the New York Sanctum, so Brooklyn falls under my guard.” There’s almost a smile in the corner of his mouth, and he drops the charm into Steve’s hand, the first time he’s passed through the doorway and it is only the tips of his fingers. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast. I believe Ms Potts sent some bagels from ‘The Deli’.”

“Tell her Thanks!” Most of Brooklyn had changed beyond his recognition, but there is a tiny Deli on an out of the way corner. Steve had found it by accident, wandering through Brooklyn… but it was basically unchanged from the 40’s, family owned and still using the traditional recipes and ingredients. It is the closest he’d found to ‘before.’

Wong nods and reverses the gesture that opens the doorway, allowing it to spin closed. Steve is alone on a beach, an unknown distance from home. But there are people there who care about him, and an enormous crate with a nostalgic breakfast. The future is a pretty weird place, but he can’t complain about it right now.

The crate has a palm scanner, which will be good, they can store their gear in it and they won’t have to worry about security if the locals Nebula mentioned get curious and come to visit. Steve pops the seal on the unit and swings open the door. Inside about a quarter of the space is filled with crates labeled NASA. Steve has to wonder how they’d managed to put this together so quickly, does NASA have a ‘in case we get a chance to send some gear to some not-scientists so they can get us samples of things’ go-bag? It certainly looks like it, and given the events of the last decade or so… probably a reasonable thing to plan for. 

The rest of the space if filled with Pepper’s care package. A good chunk of the space is taken up by two adirondack chairs. They look custom built, heavy and slightly wider than he thinks is strictly normal. But the thing that catches his attention is a large paper bag on one of the seats. He can smell the warm fresh baked bagels from the doorway of the unit. He picks up the bag and unfolds it carefully, burying his face in the bag and inhaling deeply. He leans back out of the unit and shouts, “Bucky! Soup’s on!”

He puts the bag down carefully, folding the crease back into the bag to keep the warmth in until Bucky comes back from his patrol. Then he wrangles the chairs out and sets them up facing the water. There’s also a beach umbrella that is tall enough for them to stand under and a small table to go with the chairs. Two packed hammocks, metal frames to hang them from, surf boards and snorkel gear. Two suitcases of clothing suitable for the beach, a stack of paperback novels taken from Steve’s apartment, and Bucky’s Kindle. A couple crates labeled FOOD that Steve doesn’t bother to open with the promise of the bagels calling to him. There’s a small toilet that reminds him of the one he’d seen in The Martian, and he’s not actually surprised when it has a NASA logo on it too. Beside that is a small still for desalinating water. There is also a large box of water purification tablets and a portable shower.

Bucky appears at the door of the unit. “What’s this?”

“Pepper. Wong delivered it.” Pepper and Bucky had only met the once, after everything, when everyone had been together. She’d been fiercely protective of Bucky almost instantaneously, which Steve hadn’t prodded at too hard, grateful for an ally. Steve had a feeling it had something to do with Shuri, the two women got along like a house on fire. Steve understood that Tony and Bucky would never be friends, and Bucky had told him to let it go often enough that he didn’t _worry_ about as much as he had before.

“Are those bagels from The Deli?”

“Yeah, there’s three kinds of cream cheese too. And they are still warm.”

Bucky snatches up the bag, cradling it gently against his chest. “Where’s yours?”

Steve narrows his eyes, and Bucky relents almost immediately. They sit on their new chairs and eat quietly, drinking strong black coffee like they haven’t a care in the world. Steve leans back and closes his eyes, his brain won’t really let him rest though. He’s thinking about all the things he should do, go exploring, find a source of fresh water or at least set up the still. Should they hunt or just eat all the food Tony had sent first? 

“What’s with all the NASA crates?” Bucky brings him back, and Steve opens his eyes to catch sight of Bucky licking cream cheese off his thumb.

“Tony told NASA where we are, and they sent some sample kits. They want us to… I hope there’s instructions.” He can already see the curiosity and excitement growing in Bucky’s mind. But Steve let himself be distracted by the curve of Bucky’s lips. 

Bucky groans. “Did we say anything epic when we arrived?”

They hadn’t, no words for the history books. Although technically Quill was the first human to set foot on an alien planet, so perhaps they could be forgiven for not marking the occasion. It is also hard to justify that sort of behaviour when you are arriving on a planet that is already home to sentient and spacefaring peoples. “We can try, ‘We come in peace.’ if we go to the village.”

Bucky grunts acknowledgement. “Poor Parker, he’s going to miss all the fun.”

“Only you and Parker would think doing homework for NASA is a fun way to spend a vacation.” Steve can tell that Bucky does want to do homework for NASA, wants to very badly, but he’s still taking cues from Steve. They should probably talk about it, but Steve is still having trouble sorting out his own head. “I…” He’s not sure what’s he’s going to say but he closes his mouth.

Bucky leans back in his chair, tin mug of coffee in his hand. “We saved the universe, something like 3 times this week. Time for toes in sand, we have like 20 years of R&R owed, if my math is right.” He squints a little in the sun, turning his face towards the surf. 

Something pinches in Steve’s chest, and they can’t talk about that either, the guilt Steve feels for sleeping through 70 years of Bucky’s imprisonment. They’d had one conversation about it, that ended with Bucky telling Steve off for wishing suffering on himself. The Soldier had been in cryo more than out, Bucky had said, so he’d slept through most of it as well. 

“We could go AWOL you know. Nebula said this planet is well travelled, we could probably find a freighter that needs crew, that’s how I got to Europe. We could see the stars, or stay here and go all Tarzan. I could see you in a loincloth.” Bucky suggests it like he’s suggesting they go to the movies, or to see a ball game.

Steve can feel the tension in his brows, knows that the frown line there is going to be permanent even with the serum if he keeps this up. They could probably be superheroes out here too, but he’s tired, and it seems unlikely he’d be able to navigate right and wrong out here with no context. “I miss Brooklyn. I want to go _home_ , but I’m not sure it exists anymore.” They could though, they could go on the run and be space pirates. Maybe home is wherever Bucky is.

“So two weeks of honest to G-D R&R, and then home.”

Steve lets his head rest against the back of his chair and closes his eyes. The insides of his eyelids glow with morning light. He taps his knuckle against the wooden armrest to ward off bad luck. “Two weeks and then home.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Still plugging away at this thing, I haven't even gotten to the part that is the WHOLE REASON I started writing this. I'm closer though so small victories!
> 
> Comments give me life!

Bucky contemplates Steve for a minute. Peaceful, still and safe, which is all Bucky ever wanted in the first place. He doesn’t really want to go back, Bucky can tell, but he’s too stubborn. He’d told Tony, but it was probably more that he’d promised Sam that he would come back. Maybe they can get their R&R in and go back, set up Sam… get him sorted as the new Captain America, hand off the baton as it were. Tony would let Sam pick up the shield, they’d work well together and the Avengers could be a real thing, the way it almost had been before Bucky had crashed the party.

“You just going to sit there all day, punk?”

“No. I’m going to wait half an hour then go for a swim.” Steve doesn’t even open his eyes.

“That’s an old wives tale.” Bucky tries not to laugh, but he also can’t muster any real motivation to get started on setting up a more permanent camp. The crates of NASA mystery science are calling to him, but he doesn’t want to let them take over his well earned vacation. He chews on the inside of his lip a bit at that, he’s been working with the Elders in Wakanda, working through his guilt and paying what penance he could, but also on understanding that he didn’t deserve punishment for things the Winter Soldier had done on Hydra’s orders. He’s still having trouble with that one, he thinks he probably does deserve some form of punishment, but the Elders had managed to convince him that it need not be self inflicted. 

He’s working on just relaxing, it isn’t often he has a chance to sit and just enjoy anything, but his brain is spinning up thinking of all the things he could be doing. He pushes himself up out of the chair, Steve’s face turns towards him, eyes still closed but for all the world like a flower turning to the sun. “I’m going to check the supplies.” 

Steve murmurs and settles back into his chair. 

He’s more than a little curious about what Pepper sent them. What does she think they need on an alien planet? He doesn’t get far at poking around in the crate before he finds his Kindle. That gives him pause, the last time he’d seen it had been in Wakanda in the little house he’d kept while he was tending his farm and goats. Someone must have packed it up during the time Between, but it was definitely his, it had the same decal on the back that Shuri had given him. “Your colonizer tech is all so ugly.”

He flipped it over and stared at the decal, it was black and white and somehow gave the suggestion of a wolf without actually being a picture of a wolf. He runs his finger along the outline and smiles. 

He’s probably one of the only people who has prior experience with missing chunks of time, being Between had been mostly like going into cryo, and waking up afterwards to find the world changed was nearly situation normal for him. This time… and that right there is the sort of spiral that the Elders had warned him about. There’s nothing he can do about the Between time, he can only make every moment of today mean something.

He gathers some towels and gives the swimming trunks a serious moment of consideration before grabbing his Kindle and a random novel for Steve.

He thinks Steve actually has fallen asleep by the time he gets back to the table and chairs, their camp is a logistical nightmare, everything has just sort of been plopped down willy-nilly. He can practically hear Shuri telling him it is “organic planning” but he doubts there was any sort of plan in where Steve plopped down the chairs, sort of halfway between the fire pit and the cargo container. The quinjet is parked near the tree line, which is fine because they aren’t likely to use it, but also makes part of his brain squirm because anyone could sneak up on it in the night. 

Nebula said this planet is friendly, but Nebula runs with Quill and Quill is an actual space pirate, so maybe he’ll double check the security protocols on the jet when Steve wakes up. Bucky adjusts his chair, so that he can sit facing the ocean, but so that his left arm will be in the shade cast by the umbrella. The kindle may hold a lot more information than a book but the screen is _garbage_ in bright direct sun. 

He settles in to read, first peeling off the trousers and t-shirt he’d put on to go do the perimeter check this morning and toeing off his boots. One did not simply wander around an alien planet in just their skin, seemed a great way to find out if there is such a thing as alien poison ivy. Sitting in the sun reading a book? That was something one could definitely do in the nude. Put a towel down over the back and seat of the chair to ward off any stray splinters and he’s off to the races. If the races are a treatise on land use and crop rotation suited to Wakandan farming methods.

Bucky reads for ten minutes or so, crop rotation is not something he’d generally had to think about before. There is something wholesome and healing about it though, he can definitely appreciate why the Elders had assigned it to him.

Steve startles awake, and Bucky couldn’t really blame him. There was something surreal about the suddenness they’d found themselves on the other side of this thing. Bucky looks at him over the edge of the Kindle, raising his eyebrow. “You good?”

Steve scrubs his hands over his face, rubbing at his chin through the beard he’d grown while Bucky was in Wakanda. “For a certain definition of good, sure.” He grinds the heels of his hands into his eyes to push away the sleep there. “What’cha reading?”

“Best practices for Wakanda Crop Rotations.” 

“I have no idea if you are being serious or not.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows and goes back to the text, it is written in Xhosa, so it requires a level of focus and context Bucky finds both challenging and rewarding. 

Steve shifts in his chair, looking out at the water, at least he’s pretending to look at the water. Bucky can practically feel him vibrating with questions. They’d talked a lot while Bucky was in Wakanda, Skype and FaceTime whenever Steve was somewhere with reliable and secure internet access. 

“Can I distract you?” It wasn’t the question Bucky had been expecting, but he probably should have, considering how things had gone the night before.

He can’t resist teasing. “I dunno, _can_ you?” He’d been sitting with his legs crossed, but he lets his ankle slip from his knee and drop back to the sand. “You remember the rules?”

“Snap my fingers if I wanna quit, or take a break. If you say ‘stop’ or pull me off I gotta wait until you say it is okay again.” He’d never snapped his fingers once, but Bucky had pulled him off more than once, back in the day when the idiot was trying to have an asthma attack while choking on Bucky’s dick. For the record, that’s not sexy. Watching a pissed off Steve Rogers regain control of his breathing for the express and sole purpose of getting your cock back in his mouth? That’s sexy. 

“C’mon then.”

One thing Steve Rogers has never and will never have is a sexy prowl. He’s eager, and has no ability whatsoever to hide it. Bucky still likes the way he looks as he pushes up out of his chair and covers the couple of steps around the table to stand in front of him. “Is it really Wakandan farming techniques?”

“It really is.” Bucky tilts the kindle towards Steve, but the Xhosa won’t make any sense to him anyway. 

“Will you teach me?” Steve settles onto his knees in front of the chair. 

“My accent is terrible.” Which has the benefit of being true without putting Steve off the idea. “I can teach you to read it though, we can go to lessons together when we go back.” Steve makes an affirmative noise and lightly runs his fingers up the tops of Bucky’s thighs before reversing course and trailing his hands down, coaxing Bucky to spread his thighs and make room for Steve to settle between them.

It is probably too early to be making plans for after, while they are still weighing the options, and maybe they will just run away after all. Bucky is doing his best to, not ignore the movement of Steve’s hands over his thighs and groin, but to concentrate on the conversation. Bucky reaches down and brushes a lock of hair from Steve’s temple and Steve chases the gesture, letting Bucky’s fingers catch in his hair. 

Steve bends his head to brush his lips over the inside of Bucky’s thigh. The beard is new enough that Bucky inhales sharply. Steve’s eyes sparkle with mischief, he’s won a point, probably two because Bucky hadn’t called him on it when he’d brushed the hair out of his eyes. 

“I thought you wanted to go swimming.” Bucky turns his eyes back to the Kindle, though he knows he won’t actually be able to read, now that Steve has started on his distraction.

“Can swim later, ocean’s not going anywhere.” He says it real quiet, in the voice he’d used when he was small and hadn’t wanted the neighbours to hear him saying filthy things while Bucky stroked him off. 

Bucky centres himself, focusing on his breathing, he probably could make as much noise as he wanted to… all those years ago in the heat of a Brooklyn summer, with Steve’s mouth on his cock. He gets off on it though, the same way Steve does… the gentle way Steve kisses him, the soft brush of lips over the inside of his thighs, the barest hint of tongue that swipes over the curve of his balls. The way when Steve finally takes the length of Bucky’s cock into his mouth he just sighs and drops his head to rest against Bucky’s thigh. 

There’s nothing hurried about it, Steve knows he’s got all the time in the world. Bucky tabs out of the Xhosa text and finds something he’s read before, something he won’t have to concentrate on or get annoyed with himself for not paying proper attention to. Steve swallows around him, and it knocks something loose inside his chest. Warm liquid arousal makes his toes curl in the sand, makes his head fall back against the chair and let the tablet drop onto the arm of the chair. 

The best laid plans, Bucky tries to pick the tablet back up, tries to read anything at all. But the words all blur together, and Steve’s barely moving, just rolling his tongue. His breathing is slow and even and he’s making little contented noises that vibrate up Bucky’s body and settle in his sternum. His old arm had responded to changes in heat and pressure, but this new one, he swears he can feel the tingle in the pads of his fingers… matching sensations in the flesh and bone hand. 

He gives up on reading, lets both of his hands fall to his lap. “Stevie, sweetheart. I’m sorry… _I’m sorry_ I know you wanted to rest, I promise. I promise I’ll be good and let you rest… please tell me I can, I’m so sorry baby I can’t you feel so good.” If he’s going to give in he’s going to give in all the way, there’s no reason to deny how badly he wants Steve. And he does want this, he wants just to sit here for hours and feel Steve around him. To let Steve have him.

Steve lets Bucky pet him, lets Bucky’s hands travel in their courses through his hair, over his beard and around the curve of his jaw. If he wanted, he could make his head heavy, stay pressed against Bucky’s thigh. There’s a negotiation there, somewhere, and Steve moves, rebalances himself until the beautiful weight of his head is in Bucky’s hands. 

It would be easy to give in and just fuck Steve’s mouth, but neither of them really want that. He guides Steve into a slow smooth tease of a blow job, once he gets the rhythm Steve starts moving on his own. “Yeah, sweetheart, just like that. So good for me.” He can already feel the tension easing from his shoulders and back and he relaxes into the feeling of Steve’s mouth. He watches Steve suck him, not so much the slide of his cock into Steve’s mouth but the way his head and shoulders are moving. Steve’s eyes are closed, his face relaxed and calm, happily missing the little crease between his brows.

He’s slowing down, dragging out each bob of his head. Bucky’s entire body feels warm, he lets his hips fall open, spreading his thighs until they push up against the arms of the chair. Steve shifts his weight and makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat. Bucky laughs a bit and moves his right leg back a bit to give Steve something to rest against. Bucky’s heart is beating a little fast, and there’s a choir of angels humming in his ears. He still wants but he doesn’t need more than this anymore. 

Bucky’s brain starts to wander, he’ll go for a swim with Steve later. Try and make something approaching a secure camp out of this mess they’ve thrown up around them. After lunch he’ll give Steve a blow job up against the shady side of the shipping container, tell him the story first, the one about the time Bucky was working an overnight and Steve brought him dinner and Bucky had sucked him off behind a pile of crates with the men from the factory smoking around the corner. 

Steve’s head stops moving, comes to rest against Bucky’s thigh again. He’s not really still, his tongue and mouth are still working, pressure and warmth and wetness supplemented by hopeless twitches of Bucky’s hips and cock. Bucky will come, eventually, it’ll sneak up on him, something like a wet dream made real. He lets out a little grunt at the thought, knowing that Steve’s mouth… “Fuck, so sweet for me Stevie.”

Steve’s head is getting heavy against Bucky’s thigh. His mouth is still working, tiny motions that keep Bucky hard and tingling all the way from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. “Hmmn, thank you sweetheart, you know how much I love your mouth. Love being inside you.”

Bucky shifts his hips a little, lets his body relax into the chair and his shoulders fall back, going boneless and letting the warmth of Steve’s mouth spread through him. 

Bucky wakes up with the sun high overhead. His cock is still hard but at some point it has slid out of Steve’s mouth and is resting against his stomach. Steve’s head is still resting on the meaty part of Bucky’s thigh, and his shoulders and back have turned a lovely golden brown from the sun. Even his hair looks lighter, like the rays of the sun have reversed some of the aging. 

“C’mon pal, time to get up. Your neck’s gonna to get a crick in it.”

“My neck’s fine.” Steve’s grumpy at having been woken up, probably that he doesn’t have a mouthful of cock still. 

“Well my ass is asleep. I don’t think these chairs were made for this.” They definitely weren’t but there’s no way Bucky is going to complain to Stark about it. 

Steve grumbles some more but lifts his head off Bucky’s thigh. He doesn’t go far though, just kneeling up far enough to reclaim Bucky’s cock in his mouth, licking a stripe up the shaft before swallowing it back down. 

Bucky makes a noise in the back of his throat and gets ahold of the arm rests of the chair with a white knuckle grip. 

Steve hums and shifts his weight more onto his knees, freeing up his hands to roam over Bucky’s body. One hand finds Bucky’s right nipple and starts to stroke and flick at it. This is all about getting Bucky off, quick and dirty. Bucky’s hips start to move in time with the way Steve is sucking him off. Steve makes encouraging noises and once the shock wears off Bucky combs his fingers into Steve’s hair and starts controlling the movement of Steve’s head. 

Steve’s free hand wraps around his own cock and Bucky groans at the quick sharp movements of Steve’s shoulder against his thigh. “C’m here.”

He pulls Steve up and off his cock, wrapping fingers around the back of Steve’s neck to pull him up higher. He ignores the noise of protest Steve makes, “Wanna see you come sweetheart, show me how much you like it.” He pulls Steve in and kisses him, gentle at first but breaks it off to watch as Steve’s movements become more frantic and desperate. “Good boy, Stevie, c’mon give it to me.”

Steve groans, his cock twitching in his hand and his come painting streaks over Bucky’s stomach. Steve’s hips thrust into the air between them as he milks his cock. 

“That’s my boy, so beautiful sweetheart.” Bucky runs his flesh fingers over Steve’s cock, and then over his stomach, sweeping up Steve’s come before taking his own cock in hand and stroking himself, coating himself in Steve’s come.

 

Steve drops back to his knees and nudges Bucky’s hand away with his chin, swallowing Bucky down for the last time. Bucky groans and holds onto the back of Steve’s head with one hand while he flicks at his own nipple with the other. “ _Fuck, Stevie!_ ”

The orgasm begins in the tips of his toes, locking all the muscles in his legs in a thrust that pushes at the back of Steve’s throat. He comes until his vision goes white and he’s pretty sure he’s having a heart attack. 

He comes down and uses Steve’s mouth to milk the last of the pleasure from his body. “So good, Stevie, thank you… baby so good.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was largely written in the dead of night when I should have been sleeping. I apologize if it is nonsense.

They spend the rest of the day swimming, setting up camp and unpacking all the supplies Tony and Pepper had sent back. They’ve got enough food for a small army, or to tide two super-soldiers over for two weeks. Steve had suddenly decided against hunting to supplement their food supplies. “We could accidently eat someone’s pet… or someone.” 

Which alright, fair enough, and Bucky is less inclined to venture out into the woods anyway. He hadn’t seen signs of regular visits to their beach, so this part of the island must be isolated enough that the people here don’t bother coming round to visit, but the less they move around the less likely they are to be spotted and… interrupted. 

They also decide against moving the quinjet, the less noise they make in general. They set up the camouflage tarp over it and set the proximity alarms to go off in case someone tries to sneak up on them from that flank. 

They unpack all the NASA stuff and look it over, there’s a tablet with a video; a woman who reminds Steve of Jane, and Bucky of Shuri, the same sort of intense curiosity and desire for knowledge. She starts of by explaining that Tony has already given her some of the rocks and one feather from the birds. She’s incredibly grateful, and if they happen across anything else of interest she’s more than happy to have physical samples but “We’ve moved past the ‘pinning the last of a butterfly to a board’ stage of sample gathering. Please take samples of soil, water and air. But for everything else please take only photographs and scans.” The majority of the equipment in the container is actually scanning equipment. A variety of ‘point and shoot’ scanners that take readings on various spectra and molecular levels that have Steve scratching his head in confusion and Bucky leaning in and chewing his lip in interest. 

There are also a couple of drones and a rover that is self powered and, once it is synced to the quinjet, will send back reports on its journey. They power it up and turn it loose, and watch as it rolls away into the undergrowth. They also set up the weather sensors, and once the radar is going they discover clear skies in all directions as far as the radar can see. 

“The weather guys will be disappointed.” 

“If it storms now it is _your_ fault Steven.”

Steve reaches over and touches the wood of the chair with his knuckles. 

The camp is still chaotic by the time they settle down for the night, building the fire back up and putting out the grill Tony had sent to make burgers. The crates labeled ‘Food’ had turned out to be fully stocked fridges, powered by an arc reactor, and contained actual food not just the MRE’s from the quinjet. 

They’d spent the majority of the day either naked, swimming and laying out in the sun to even out their tans, or in just boxers, unpacking and cooking. They’d put on trousers for the deployment of the rover, not wanting to send back… inappropriate imagery for the first images of a new and habitable world. 

They are sitting on crates, watching the fire cook their hamburgers, the sun dipping low towards the tree line.

“So, I found something Tony sent for us.” Something in the way Bucky says it sends a thrill of fear down Steve’s spine.

“Yeah?” 

Bucky leans over and lifts a large and suspiciously heavy box from beside the crate he’s sitting on. There’s a post-it note stuck to the lid, which Steve plucks off without actually taking the box from Buck.

“Nebula says the locals are compatible. Stay safe.” Steve turns the note over as if he’s expecting to find a clue as to what Tony means. “That’s… deeply unnerving. What’s in the box?”

“Did they ever give you the talk? Hanging out with all those USO girls?”

“He didn’t.”

“Oh he did.” Bucky opens the top of the box, gently setting the lid in the sand by his feet. The light from the fire glitters off the variety of foil wrappers, the ones Steve remembers from the war were plain and utilitarian, these all have bright colours and there are a couple with animal prints. There’s also two of the largest bottles of lube he’s seen, possibly ever. 

Steve’s brain stutters for a second. “Well that was generous of him.” Part of him is relieved, another part of him is deeply deeply weirded out. “I was thinking we’d have to use the KY from the first aid kit.”

Bucky throws his head back and laughs, full and open like he hasn’t for such a long time. “We made do with a lot worse than that.” Which is true, at least when they’d been together in the war they’d had the rations. Before that they’d made do with all sorts of things that weren’t designed for what they’d used them for but had worked to a certain value of the idea.

There’s a sizzle and a pop from the grill and Steve breaks out of the memory and grabs the metal spatula to flip the burgers. “You’re making me burn dinner, Buck!”

They sit quietly together, eating their dinner and watching the waves. Bucky thinks he might have it easier, he’d been alone for awhile in Wakanda. Long stretches of days with just his goats and the occasional child. Steve hasn’t been alone since he came out of the ice, not really, not in ways that matter.

“I used to dream about us. Only I didn’t know it was you, thought it was a fantasy. But I think it was real, well… we were in the apartment. That little two room in the basement of the brownstone we had together. Only… I had the other arm, but I could feel everything with it, and my hair was longer. Sometimes you were like this, and sometimes you were like you were. I’d be so afraid, that I’d hurt you… even if you were… taller.” Bucky can see Steve out of the corner of his eye but neither of them are moving, turning to look at each other, they just keep watching the waves. “You’d climb into my lap and it was always so sweet, I felt like I was drowning in you.”

“When they thawed me out. They put me in this fake room, dressed it up like it was after the war and they’d found me. Sent in this agent dressed up like a dame, almost looked like Peggy. Only it wasn’t Peggy, and that was the first thing that tipped me. Cuz of course if they’d found me she’da been there. But by then I’d really listened to the game on the radio, and I remembered it, had to tell her I was there… but I wasn’t.” Steve tips his head back and looks up at the sky. “I remember that game like I was there, because we were listening to it on the radio. You’d turned it up, just loud enough that it wouldn’t make anyone come and tell us to turn it down, but so that it covered up all the noises I was making. I swear, Buck, I’ll never forget it.”

“You had me take off all my clothes, it was hot outside, real warm for May. But in the basement it was still cool, and I thought I was gonna freeze to death at first. But then you pulled me in, laid me out on my front on the couch, over your lap. I thought I was in for it.” Steve’s throat goes dry and he swallows hard, the line of his cock showing through the boxers he’s still wearing. “You’d done that before too, took me over your lap and tanned my backside. You just started talking, all low and filthy, telling me how good I was. I damn near came just from you talking and touching me all over.” Steve turns his head and looks away.

Bucky lifts his arm and slides his fingers round Steve’s back, just over the waistband of his boxers, hooks his fingers around the far side of Steve’s waist and pulls him closer. “It was a toss up, if I was gonna give you a spanking. You were so sweet to me though, nervous like you didn’t know what was going to happen but you came anyway, laid yourself out for me. Sweet as can be, all that fire burning you up and you just ready and willing for me to have my way with you.” Bucky pulls Steve closer, but he eels out of Bucky’s grasp and stands up. Which puts Steve’s groin at Bucky’s eye level, and yeah Bucky could be convinced to suck Steve off again. 

“You had the slick, and I couldn’t see what was going on, but then you slid your fingers in me… it…” Steve palms himself through his boxers. “Was like you owned me, you didn’t even say anything, just took me. Kept me that way until the bottom of the fourth, but I would've stayed that way forever if that’s how you wanted me.”

Bucky glances over at the open box and picks out one of the pump bottles of lube. He stands up and crowds into Steve’s space, herding him backwards towards their bedroll without even really touching him. Steve goes, sweet as the day they are remembering, licking his lips as he backs up but keeping his eyes on Bucky.

“Sweetheart, what I would’ve done to have been able to make you scream. All the pretty noises you were making, all the _please… Buck… please more, gimmie more._ Telling me how bad you wanted it.” Bucky stops talking when Steve’s feet hit the edge of their bedroll. “Take those off.” Steve does, slides his boxers down and kicks his feet free.

“Hands and knees, lemme see you.” Steve pauses for a fraction of a second before he turns and drops to the bedroll. Putting his ass up in the air and turning slightly so he’s facing away from the fire. The light of the fire makes his skin look warm, the lines of him cooling rapidly to silver in the reflected light from the moon off the water. 

Bucky cracks the seal on the top of the lube and works the pump until he’s got enough slick on his fingers. Steve doesn’t even look at him, just waits patiently for Buck to tell him what to do. “The whole time, you begging so pretty, all I could do was stare, watch the way you moved your hips. I barely had to move my fingers, you were fucking yourself on them so sweet.” Bucky dips his fingers into the cleft of Steve’s ass, lets the slick guide him down, and then when his fingers catch he pushes in. Steve’s body jerks once, and then Steve drops his head to the blanket, rolling his shoulders down to stretch out his spine and open himself up. 

“That’s it sweetheart.” Bucky moves closer, pressing himself up against Steve’s hip. His metal fingers trail down Steve’s spine and wrap gently around Steve’s neck, holding him down. “You gonna give it to me sweet? Or you want me to take it?” He twists his fingers and pushes them in deeper, pumping gently as he speaks.

Steve moans, louder than he’d been able to before but still partly muffled by his face pressed into the blanket, the sand underneath soaking up the vibrations. Bucky thinks for a second that Steve’s already so far gone that he won’t answer, but then he turns his head towards Bucky. “Please, _Fuck, Bucky!_ Please, I want you to take it… please.” He seems so much louder than he was before, but it could be that the night is quiet and still around them, and the memory of his stifled moans and bitten off curses is so strong Bucky can taste it.  
Steve struggles, trying to push back to meet Bucky’s fingers, but his hand on the back of Steve’s neck holds him still. “Hush, sweetheart, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. You always did bite off more than you could chew. Gotta get you ready for me. Been awhile, you been saving it up for me?”

Steve whimpers under him, and Bucky thinks he really might be too far gone now to form words, which is a shame. “That’s okay Stevie, they’d never really have you.” He releases Steve’s neck and slides his fingers free at the same time, shifts around till he’s behind Steve and pumps more slick onto his hand before sliding his dick through it and into Steve.

One long smooth thrust later and he’s bottomed out, Steve’s arching his back and grinding down on him, trying to push Bucky deeper. Bucky moves his left hand back to the back of Steve’s neck and uses the grip to hold Steve steady as he snaps his hips without really pulling back, just making Steve bounce on his cock and drive just a bit further in. 

“See? Like you were made for me Stevie.” He puts a bit of pressure on Steve’s neck, guiding him back down to press his face into the bedroll, lets his metal fingers drag down Steve’s spine to his ass. Puts just enough pressure in the small of Steve’s back to force him to straighten his spine and tilt his hips back so that Buck can see his cock, can watch the slide of it on the long slow thrusts. “I’m gonna take you slow, make you remember me.”

Steve grunts like the air has been punched out of him. “I remember… I remember the top of the fifth.” Steve stretches out his arms over his head, clenches his fists in the bedroll.

“You were so stubborn all the time, if you didn’t want to do something, nothing in heaven or on earth could make you do it. I wanted you so bad, I don’t even know what I said. You went from sweet and blissed out to tearin’ at my clothes. Got my shirt open and my cock out and sank down in my lap. Put your head on my shoulder and spread yourself out in my lap, let me see all of you. I fucked you nice and slow all the way to the end of the game. Made you come all over yourself, fucking my hand and my cock.” 

He had too, Steve had been splayed out in his lap like a picture in one of the blue magazines, boneless and blissed out but still responsive when Bucky ran the tips of his fingers over Steve’s nipples. He’d turned his head so Bucky could kiss him. On the beach in the cool breeze of the night Bucky pulled Steve back until he was balanced on his knees, and the angles are awkward, Steve’s too big to lean back against Bucky’s chest but the power in his thighs is enough for him to fuck himself onto Bucky’s cock.

Bucky gets his hands on Steve’s hips and balances them out, rocking Steve’s hips back onto his cock. “Come on, baby, come for me. Show me how much you want it.”

Steve’s left hand flails out, holding onto Bucky’s left where it rests on his hip, his right taking hold of his own cock and pumping it in a counterpoint to Bucky’s thrusts. Steve arches his back and changes the angle that Bucky is pushing up into him, forcing tight bitten off moans from both of them. Bucky’s toes curl and dig into the sand under him and he pulls Steve down onto him harder and quicker, chasing his own pleasure.

Steve’s whole body convulses when he finally comes, the force of it throwing off the rhythm Bucky has been maintaining by sheer will power. Steve collapses forward, half catching himself, with one hand still cupped over his dick as he shakes and moans. Bucky follows him down, chasing the last bit of friction he needs to tip himself over and release. He ends up fucking Steve in quick short bursts with their bodies mostly pressed together from shoulder to ass, Steve’s hips just barely lifted to receive him. 

_“Please, Bucky, don’t stop. Fuck, please I want.”_

Bucky leans down to plant a kiss between Steve’s shoulder blades. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck you three times a day, let you suck on my cock till I’m hard again and turn you over and let you take it, just like you want, fuck you until you can’t walk.”

“ _Yes. Bucky, fuck yes!_ ” 

Steve’s consent is all Bucky needs to push him to his release, his body stiffens and he drives himself deep into Steve’s ass, his hips jerking and twitching with the force of his pleasure. He collapses against Steve’s back, letting the last few waves sizzle across his nerve endings as he sprawls over Steve’s back, pinning him down.

“Ger’off” Steve mumbles into the blanket.

“M’ comfy.”

“Tomorrow, we gotta build a real bed.”

Bucky just sighs and rolls them over, careful as he adjusts them into a more agreeable big spoon/little spoon arrangement, wanting to keep his cock lodged in Steve’s hole as long as he can. “As you wish.” He murmurs into the nape of Steve’s neck as he falls asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thing happens. (no worries, this is pure fluff... but I'm 6 chapters in and finally got to the part i wanted to write in the first place)

Bucky wakes with the first blush of dawn. His first thought being that Steve was right, as much as they’d slept in worse places and circumstances the sand under him is cold and hard. He rolls away from Steve, careful and slow, hoping he won’t wake. Once he’s free he stretches and feels parts of him popping and cracking, muscles shifting and loosening from the too-long-kept position of sleep. 

He rolls back towards Steve and plants a kiss in his hair, just over his ear. “Gonna do perimeter check.” Steve makes a noise but buries his nose in the crook of his arm and Bucky’s pretty sure he’s going back to sleep. At least some part of his brain knows that Bucky hasn’t run off into the night, or danger.

Bucky wanders the edges of their camp, finding and releasing the trip wires they’d set up on the first night. It makes the back of his brain itch but Steve is right, they didn’t want to risk catching something sentient but unaware of the dangers humans pose. They’d have to rely on the scanners and perimeter fencing Stark had provided. Bucky felt more secure now that the NASA scanning gear was set up and doing its thing. The radar would let them know if anything big was coming by water or by air. Probably if anything big came in through the forest as well. 

He hadn’t had that much time to interact with Nebula, but he liked and mostly trusted her. Despite, and maybe just a bit because of, the history she had with Thanos. If anyone could relate to that it’s Bucky, she seemed genuine in her desire for revenge, and for her redemption.

Bucky cleared the last of the blind spots in the camp. Maybe they should build… whatever they built, on stilts, with a retractable ladder so they had a nice high perch… nice and defensible, and off the twice cursed sand. They’d also have to set up the shower so they could rinse their feet and bodies before they get into whatever bed they managed to rig up. He’d been careful last night but the sand was eventually going to get places they didn’t want it if they kept this up for the whole two weeks. 

He ducked as he entered the storage crate and started rummaging in the fridge unit for something to make into breakfast, tossing the pack of bacon back into the recesses of the fridge he pulled out eggs and cheese and found a heavy iron skillet that would work for making omelettes. Real butter and some chives rounded out the supplies. 

“Hey, Stevie! You want omelettes you’d better make toast, you know I always burn it.” Well not always, but he had a sudden sharp memory of scraping ash off a slice of stale bread that they’d tried to toast over the coals of a campfire. He was pretty sure it had been his fault that time.

Steve was already up and tending the fire, getting the coffee pot going when Bucky came out of the crate, and he looked up with a smile that lifted Bucky’s breath right out of his chest.

“Morning…” Steve trailed off, his eyes going wide as Bucky approached.

Bucky thought it was a real tribute to the work he’d done in Wakanda that he didn’t drop the eggs and brandish the frying pan at whatever was clearly behind him. “Steve? What’s up?” Trying for calm, he hadn’t seen anything on his rounds or sensed anything when he’d come out of the crate.

Steve stood up and took a couple steps closer and Bucky immediately knew what had happened. After the serum, and after he’d come back, Steve and Bucky had been near enough as nevermind the same height, it had taken Bucky awhile to get used to the slight upward direction he’d had to take to look into Steve’s eyes. But as Steve approached it became obvious that Bucky is at least six inches taller now than Steve, and slightly broader in the shoulders.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I didn’t even notice. I feel fine… maybe hungry, but not… weird.” He’s starting to panic a bit but he pushes it aside and goes to the crates by the fire to set down his breakfast fixings.

He looks at his hands and compares them. “The arm changed too. Shuri said it’s adjustable, I didn’t think she meant...” 

“Somehow I don’t think she meant it this way either.” Steve closes the distances between them and Bucky folds him into his arms, still not quite the same as before the war, but they both sigh and melt a little in the embrace.

Bucky’s stomach grumbles and they pull apart. “What do you want to do?” He can feel Steve, wanting to say something but holding back.

 

“I think we’d better feed you first. I dunno Buck… are you sure you’re alright?”

“I feel fine, pal. We can get Shuri to check me out when we go home, if it will make you feel better.”

Steve turns away and gets busy making eggs, his idea of an omelette being to fill the pan with eggs and then throw some stuff on top and hope it all cooks. “Maybe we should go home today?” He says it like he’s hoping Bucky won’t agree. They’ve only just gotten here, got all set up the way they like it and then the universe throws another wretch in their gears.

“Nah. Nothing hurts, I don’t feel light headed. We might go through the rations a bit faster, but there’s enough we won’t need to actually _ration._ ” Bucky had been hungry before and wasn’t in a hurry to repeat the experience, there really was enough food in the crate to last them through the two weeks they intended to stay. If it came down to it _he’d_ ask the wizard to send them some more grub. Steve wouldn’t want them to impose.

“The quinjet has a med-bay, and one of Tony’s AI’s. We can run a couple tests? After food.” Bucky says it to keep Steve from worrying, but he’d actually like to know what had caused the sudden growth spurt. “Probably just the knock off serum. Acting up.”

Steve just looks at him for a minute until Bucky leans forward and takes the spatula from his hand. One side of the fire is hotter than the other and the eggs on that side have cooked while the cold side is still runny. He’s hungry enough he could eat it like that but he knows he’d worry Steve if he did so he just stirs until everything evens out and dishes the mess up onto their two camp plates and hands one to Steve.

“I forgot toast.”

Bucky smirks, Steve’s been staring at him like he can’t decide whether to climb into his lap or drag him off to the med-bay for tests _right now_. 

“Eat yer food ya punk.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have developed one of those "hold my beer" human vs. aliens head canons where humans are the only ones out there who collect trinkets from places they've visited. Most aliens will see a rock, and it is mostly just a rock, doesn't have any value and rocks are pretty much the same where ever you go. But Humans will see a rock with a bit of quartz or something shiny in it, or maybe with some tiny fossils and _need_ to take it home with them. Nebula is basically "you already have 30 rocks, they don't even have any metal in them, it is literally just a rock... _WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS_


End file.
